


Curiosity Killed the Cat...

by OnceAPotterTime



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Hogwarts Third Year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28697673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceAPotterTime/pseuds/OnceAPotterTime
Summary: ...But Satisfaction Brought Him BackMore than 50 years after Tom Riddle called Wools Orphanage his home, another child was taken into its high walls.Lyra Black was (to put it simply) an orphan. She never knew of her family or the first year of her life. Though many strange things occurred it hadn't crossed her mind to connect it to magic or the fact that she was a witch. It turned out that while her mother was certainly dead, it had been her father that killed her and he was in a terrible wizarding prison called Azkaban. On the cusp of entering her third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Lyra's father, the infamous Sirius Black, became the first person to escape from Azkaban and was now attempting to kill Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. Lyra once thought she was a simple orphan girl alone and forgotten, but as a witch she has to prove she's not going to turn evil like many in her family did.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	1. The Orphan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Lyra Black, you've got a visitor." Mrs. Wright told her stiffly.

Lyra Black had never been a child of much exuberance.

Rather, anyone that had ever meet her could note the quiet that she radiated and the calm that followed her throughout her childhood. Never one to cry or fuss, she had been one of the few low maintenance children for the employees of Wool's Orphanage to watch over since she arrived there in the ten years that passed. Untroublesome and peaceful, she never needed much looking after, other than the handful of times something odd would occur. Like flowers growing where they shouldn't or tall tales of lights flickering. They could always be explained away quite easily the staff found, the imagination of a child truly was a wonderful thing.

As Wool's Orphanage had always fundamentally been in the ownership of the Wool family, and though Mrs. Wright had since married (she had once been Caroline Wool) she had seen Lyra Black grow up from the time she was a toddler to the girl she was today. She was easy to remember primarily because though many of the children had come and gone, Lyra Black had stayed, and the circumstance in which she arrived had puzzled her grandmother, Old Mrs. Wool, greatly. 

Mrs. Wright, the daughter of Mrs. Wool and the granddaughter of Old Mrs. Wool before her, was the only one left who knew Lyra Black had just appeared... and never left. If she was the type to believe in the wishy-washy logic of her grandmother's, then perhaps she would fear the child or be concerned, but she was not the type and Lyra Black, Mrs. Wright knew, was just another bothersome child who was stranded and left to the elements.

She never told the girl about any of this of course, it was a mercy Mrs. Wright gave her, to not know and to not have wonder. Moreover Lyra Black had never asked and so Mrs. Wright would never have to tell her. 

Mrs. Wright believed this, believed 'It' from the time she was twenty to the time she walked in and a woman dressed in green and wearing a severe expression, was waiting for her and 'wanting to speak to a girl they had named Lyra Black'. She even used the child's middle name, and that was approximately the moment Mrs. Wright didn't believe It anymore. 

Mrs. Wright led this peculiar visitor, who had an even stranger reason for being there, up to Lyra Black's room and delicately rapped at the door before opening it when allowed.

This visitor-Professor Minerva McGonagall, she said her name was- had offered Lyra Black a place at this school she worked for and said she knew the child's parents, and how the tuition had already been paid for.

Mother dead, no elaboration on the father, how strange Mrs. Wright had thought.

She had sensibly been wary of this stranger, with the pointy hat and outlandish green robes, but the paperwork was legitimate, as was the school, and the parents (Oh dear, what kind of name was _Sirius Black?_ ) and there was really nothing she could do at that point.

When Lyra Black stood to attention at the door opening, she set her book down (A guide on dinosaurs, _honestly what an odd child_ ) and looked at Mrs. Wright and their guest, Professor McGonagall, with the same placid expression Mrs. Wright had often seen throughout the girl's youth.

"Lyra Black, you've got a visitor." Mrs. Wright told her stiffly. Though it had been quite obvious with the Professor's presence, she enjoyed her position as the head of this orphanage and getting to announce things like that cemented it in her mind. She turned to the professor questioningly and saw the woman looked a bit troubled when looking at the child.

Ah...That's right, the professor had known the girl's parents, and they must be dead for any of this to be happening at all, so it would only be natural for the Professor to look so upset when looking at the child.

The girl, none the wiser of the Professor's motives or reason for being there, gave the Professor a small smile and reached out for a handshake, "Pleasure to meet you, ma'am,"

Professor McGonagall gave the girl a small smile in return shook her hand firmly and said, "And a pleasure to meet you too, Miss Black, I am Professor Minerva McGonagall and we have much to talk about."

The way Professor had addressed Lyra Black had seemed in part to be a dismissal of Mrs. Wright so they may talk, and thus, she took the chance willingly. She never really liked spending too much time with the children. They were children, to be seen and not heard and put away when possible. Honestly, She didn't have time for trivialities like playing with children.

* * *

November 2nd, 1981 started off as a normal day for the normal folk of, in Esther's opinion, the quiet side of London. Hardly getting any visitors and just even with how muggy it was, Esther Wool was rocking on her rocking chair, humming to herself and knitting a scarf when the wind blew her hat off of her head.

As she had recently turned sixty-five, she was not as spirited as she used to be, and just the thought of chasing after the hat made her bones ache. She briefly considered calling one of the children to get it but changed her mind once she saw that the sun had barely rose. She didn't want one of the children going off and getting lost now, did she? 

Esther's mind made up, she began to stand up only to jump up in fear as a loud CRACK sounded through the empty street. Clutching her heart, she had half a mind to rush back inside, aching bones and all, but paused when she saw the little girl in the middle of the street.

"Oh, dear." 

* * *

After Mrs. Wright left as swiftly as she had arrived, Lyra Penelope Black was left alone with her visitor, Professor McGonagall. She took the pause in conversation as an opportunity to look the woman over. With her sharp features and strict expression, she didn't look like she was someone to cross, not that Lyra thought to. In fact, the only thing she was really thinking about was why the Professor had come.

Though she had no idea what was happening and why the woman came, she felt apprehensive. The Professor might have come for school, but she would have no reason to. Lyra's marks weren't terrible but they weren't extraordinary either, and besides, Lyra didn't have a penny to her name and wouldn't be able to pay for any special school.

Furthermore, Professor McGonagall couldn't have possibly come to _adopt_ Lyra. Lyra knew she was much too old for that now and the woman looked too formidable to even want a child to look after. She reminded Lyra somewhat of Mrs. Wright, though the professor looked a good deal more pleasant.

The professor peered down at her as if gathering the courage to speak, "Miss...Black, have you ever done anything unordinary? Anything unusual?"

Lyra again began to feel alarmed, "Something unusual? Like-Like what?"

Memories of doing unusual things flashed through her mind. Once she had made the dying flowers grow up to her room's window when she felt especially gloomy. Plus the only time she had ever been really angry, she made the lights in her classroom flicker erratically. She had known it had been her own doing during those times because she wanted them to happen, and they did as if she willed it.

And there had been that time, where she had used the most concentration and made the rocks float and arrange themselves in patterns in the sky for the amusement of her and her friend Tilly years ago. 

Lyra knew she could do these things. Still, that didn't mean she wanted this Professor McGonagall to know about it too.

Professor McGonagall paused, "Something like _magic_. I teach Transfiguration at a school for magic called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and you Miss Black are a witch, as were your parents."

"A witch," Lyra repeated bewildered, not even catching the mention of her parents, "I'm-I'm a witch?"

"Yes, you are a witch. Magic is a very real thing, though it is hidden from many. Those in our world called witches and wizards practice it in fact, I taught your parents,"

Lyra's head, which had traveled down to look at the floor, snapped up in surprise, "My parents? You knew my parents?"

"Aye, Sirius and Lucy Black were my students thirteen years ago," Professor McGonagall said before sitting down on the bed and gesturing for Lyra to do the same," and I'm very pleased to be able to teach their daughter."

The Professor was trembling now and she didn't meet Lyra's eyes when she continued, "But first, I must explain."

For the next half hour, Lyra was told about this evil wizard, named Lord Voldemort, a man not even formidable Professor McGonagall referred to by name. Lyra learned about how many people followed him and the destruction and mayhem he caused. Including how almost ten years ago Voldemort's own destruction was caused by a one-year-old boy, and how that revealed that Sirius Black, Lyra's father, had been on the evil wizard's (Professor McGonagall called him You-Know-Who) side the whole time.

The Aurors (or magical detectives) around came that early November 3rd morning to the home of Lucy and Sirius Black to question Lucy, only to force entry and find Lucy Black dead by two days with no trace of Lyra. The murder of Lucy and Lyra were added to Sirius Black's evergrowing list of crimes. In fact, they had only just recently discovered Lyra was alive because of her Hogwarts letter,Professor McGonagall said the aurors (magical detectives) figured it must have been because he left her at the orphanage before going off. He was now in the high-security wizarding prison called Azkaban, and no one had ever escaped from there so Lyra was perfectly safe. 

"Old Mrs. Wool is the only one who would've known, but she died last December," Lyra told Professor McGonagall, who frowned.

Mrs. Wright had been in University then and all of the employees that would've been there to see Sirius Black drop his daughter off at the Orphanage were long gone from Wool's Orphanage, and Lyra had never asked Mrs. Wool. No one could confirm the story. But-there was no other way. How else would she have come.

Her father killed her mother. She never would have thought of that in a million years.

Apparently, both her uncles (her father's brother and her mother's) had both died years ago back in the war and her mother's sister (she had an _aunt_ ) was married and lived in France with three children. Her aunt, Maysilee Duquette, offered to take her in but Lyra declined not even mulling it over.

"I'm alright here. I wouldn't want to be a bother anyway." 

The professor looked grim again, before shaking her head and pulling out a letter with green ink, and handed it to Lyra.

"This is your Hogwarts letter. In it are your acceptance letter and material list. Because you have access to your father's bank vault and the money inside, that is what we will use to pay for your school material," Professor McGonagall said primly, "We can go today or tomorrow, your choice," 

Lyra stared at the Professor for a second before glancing at the emerald cursive print.

"Today is fine," she answered and looked at the address again, "Thank you for coming all this way, Professor McGonagall. 

Ms. L. Black

Room 27

Wool's Orphanage

London, England

It was very specifically worded, she noticed. With her room number and everything. All her life, the only thing Lyra had ever known about herself was her name, and now she knew practically everything worth knowing. Her parent's names for one, and how she was a witch. And the fact _her father_ had killed _her mother, his best friends, and had been working for a genocidal evil wizard._

"Excellent," Professor McGonagall said standing up, "I'll inform Mrs. Wright at once,"

* * *

"There's a letter," the whispery voice of Amanda Cooke carried over the empty kitchen of Wool's Orphange, "Lyra Penelope Black, 20 months."

"But who left her?" Esther Wool questioned. There had been no one around for miles, Esther had some of her employees check, and all day some officers were looking around for the girl's parents. There was no way for a child to just show up in the middle of the road, "She's just a baby."

Amanda didn't answer. Instead with a hand over her mouth she stared past Esther, to the small television set where the evening news showed that a gas leakage that killed thirteen people, and hurt many others. It never occurred for Esther to connect the gas leakage and the appearance of Lyra Penelope Black. Esther stared hard at the news, and then shook her head sadly. 

"Oh, dear." 

* * *

Later, when Lyra had returned, with all of her books, her potion ingredients, and her robes and all the other wizarding world things she had bought and had been told to not show to anyone, she laid in her bed with her head under her pillow wondering about what her father would be doing at that moment.

He was in prison and was evil, she knew that, but he was real and suddenly Lyra didn't have to guess who he was or what he looked like. What either of her parents looked like for that matter. Her father got gone and gotten himself in wizard prison and left Lyra with a reputation she would never be able to wash off and it was so stupid but it made her mad. It wasn't easy make her mad in the first place, she'd only been properly furious once before, and that was years ago. She's never met him, but her father's already gone and made her upset. 

He went and did a lot of things clearly.

She tried to think of other, more happy, things like the fact that in a little over a month, she would be going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Lyra would be learning magic, brewing potions, and riding brooms all while waving her wand (a supple 10 ½ inches Pinewood wand with dragon heartstring core that she had gotten at Ollivander's Wand Shop that day). Lyra felt excitement bubble up inside of her at the thought of casting spells and jinxes and charms and how it would feel.

She hoped it felt like the warm trickle her wand made her feel when she had waved it for the first time.

But then she thought of how everyone would know her surname and assume things they had no right to assume. She wouldn't be missed at the orphanage by Mrs. Wright or the other children, she knew, she had hardly ever been around, always preferring to spend time with Tilly, her friend. But even Tilly wouldn't be there to miss her having died a summer ago. 

She tried not to feel lonely, but it crept up on her, and the ache was worsened as she thought of the companionship of her old friend. Hogwarts would be a new experience for sure. She would learn magic and be more than Sirius Black's daughter.

She would be Lyra. Lyra Penelope Black was not mad. She was not evil. She was good.

She told this to herself repeatedly. And when she fell asleep, she believed it.


	2. The Daughter of Sirius Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Lyra Black," Mrs. Wright said, through a yawn, "You've got a visitor."

Nearly two years had passed in Wool's Orphanage since Professor McGonagall had come and told Lyra Black that she was a witch. However not much had changed in room 27 since her departure.

Though the floral print of the bedspread had since faded into dull patterns, the room was as bare as ever with the standard bed and small table. It was never a particularly large room, but Lyra never minded because she hardly spent time in it anyway.

That–along with other things–changed over the summer when Lyra’s father, the infamous Sirius Black escaped from the wizarding prison Azkaban. Since the news came out, Lyra had been watched more closely and her privileges, like going out whenever she wished, were taken away.  
  
It was September first and Lyra's first day back at school for her third year of school at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and though she had always been an early bird that morning, that morning took the cake when she woke up at four rather than seven like planned.

After worrying that it was actually the afternoon and thinking she had missed her train, she found herself sitting cross-legged on her bed staring at the wanted poster of her father at seven in the morning.  
  
It wasn't a flattering poster, for him or for her. The unkempt manner in which he was presented frightened her when she had first seen him, and since then it hasn't changed. From his knotted wild hair to his sharp yellow teeth, he didn't look like the thirty-something year old that Lyra knew he was. 

She had seen pictures of him before Azkaban and it was clear Azkaban ruined his old good looks.

Lyra reminded herself that he deserved it. It was easy to forget when all of her life she had invented stories of what he would be like. Once she remembered everything he had done all sympathy vanished. She had come a long way since she was eleven, and now she allowed herself to be angry when it came to her father.

The man killed her mother after all. He had betrayed and committed treason against the ministry and left Lyra to deal with all the pieces he left behind. The jerk.

When Lyra would arrive at King's Cross that afternoon, she could already anticipate the fearful or dark looks she would be sent. It had been bad enough in Diagon Alley, where she was avoided like the plague, and given dirty looks. Though fear seemed to be the extent of it, and Lyra didn’t think she would be attacked anytime soon, it was never too soon to be prepared to defend herself.

Besides at least it wasn’t everyone being suspicious of her, some people remembered how Sirius Black had killed her mother and how until 2 years ago, it was believed that he had killed Lyra as well. 

Lyra yawned but froze when outside her door, the floor creaked. It was seven in the morning after all and no one was awake that early around there. 

The delicate knock made Lyra stuff the magical (and moving) wanted poster of her father into her trunk before jumping to open the door. Mrs. Wright stood there looking dead on her feet, rubbing her bleary eyes with her auburn hair in rollers, fuzzy slippers donning her feet, and robe wrapped tightly around her frame. She looked highly annoyed, and Lyra wondered what she must have done now. Today was her last official day at the orphanage after all.

"Lyra Black," Mrs. Wright said, through a yawn, "You've got a visitor."

That simple phrase took Lyra back two years, back when Professor McGonagall had come to tell her about Hogwarts. Before Lyra even knew who Sirius Black was, and had no idea of the magic she possessed.

Except her Transfiguration professor had no reason to come this early in the morning, of the day the Hogwarts Express took the students to the school. If Professor McGonagall wanted to talk to Lyra so badly she would have come the day before or would have pulled her out before the feast. It was probably someone from the Ministry instead.

Lyra followed Mrs. Wright out, slightly frightened of what she would find, into the foyer of Wool's Orphanage (her father could find her here, couldn't he?) except it could be the Aurors instead, coming to tell her that her father had been found.

But Lyra's worries were for naught because sitting in one of the stiff chairs that had been at Wool's Orphanage longer than Lyra had, was Madam Cordelia Dunbar, an Auror and the mother of Lyra's best friend Fay Dunbar.

"Good morning Lyra," said Madam Dunbar pleasantly, "I hope I haven't woken you."

Lyra blinked, "No, no. Not at all, Good morning Madam Dunbar. I've been awake since-since four-forever. You haven't woken me."

As if by the mention of anything related to sleep, Mrs. Wright gave a deep yawn.

Lyra wanted to ask Madam Dunbar what she was doing so early in the morning but refrained, "Mrs. Wright, you may go back to sleep, I know Madam Dunbar."

Mrs. Wright blinked owlishly before glancing at Madam Dunbar and then to Lyra and back at Madam Dunbar again.

"Well- Well, I don't- I don't think-" Mrs. Wright was interrupted when she yawned again, "Oh, I don't know. That doesn't seem very appropriate."

"If it helps, I've come to pick Miss Black up for school. I've had it signed off-oh here it is," Madam Dunbar said handing a slip of paper to a disoriented Mrs. Wright, "She goes to school with my daughter, you see, and with _everything going on_ I figured it would be better if I came and dropped Lyra off at London myself." 

Lyra figured by saying 'everything going on,' Madam Dunbar meant Sirius Black currently evading arrest, but Mrs. Wright had no idea of magic, in general, or the identity of Lyra’s father, or that the Ministry of Magic had been watching the orphanage waiting for Sirius Black to show up since mid-July. She was entirely out of the loop, unaware-oblivious if you will, to the truth of Lyra's past. Yet, Mrs. Wright nodded as if she understood.   
  
Lyra had been told, right when the escape had first happened, that her father was coming for Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, to kill him. It wasn’t sugarcoated for her young ears by any means and consisted of Minister Cornelius Fudge, in the flesh, informing her after rudely interrogating her for knowledge she didn't possess. 

Lyra had bit down many retorts during that fake trial, and she had been ruminating over them ever since.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Albus Dumbledore, had also taken Lyra aside except he told her to watch over herself. Professor Dumbledore seemed to be operating under the impression her father might have a go at her next. If she suspected anything at all or saw anything, she was to inform him immediately. 

Lyra’s aunt in France had offered to take her, but the request was denied so that the British Ministry could keep a closer eye on her. Her aunt had started up a fuss over it, something about they were _forbidden_ to use Lyra as bait, but the issue was dropped (but to be revisited) when her husband got into a nasty potion's accident that had left him on bed rest and under her aunt's undivided care. It was decided that she would spend Christmas in France.

The number of adults intruding in Lyra's life had been steadily rising, and it was with a heavy heart she realized that her independence was dwindling away and that once school would begin she would be under someone's watch more often than not. Even her Hogsmeade privileges had been revoked (just in case) even though Mrs. Wright had signed her permission slip. 

Lyra still wasn’t happy with those turn of events. She was fine to be bait. If she was being as closely monitored as they made it seem, then it would easier to find Sirius Black that way. The sooner he was caught, the sooner Lyra's life would go back to normal, or as close as it got to it in any case. 

Lyra usually described herself as more of a self-reliant kind of person. She only really needed her best friend Fay Dunbar, and more recently her newer friend Luna Lovegood. And it was for that reason that Lyra knew she would absolutely resent the intrusion of adults into her life more than anything. The only adults she really talked to were her teachers. 

She would be watched more than ever, and though she knew that the adults just cared about her well-being, Lyra couldn't help but feel stifled. Furthermore, she had always avoided Harry Potter (from shame or embarrassment she didn't know) and even if he didn’t seem the type to seek her out, Lyra had to be ready just in case he would attack her. 

Mrs. Wright frowned and looked contemplative, "Well if you say so,"

The matron turned and with an inconsequential wave of her hand, went up the stairs and was gone, leaving behind the distinct smell of lime

"It's wonderful to see you again, Madam Dunbar," Lyra said as politely as she could, "I didn't expect you this early,"

"Well we have to be one step ahead," Madam Dunbar told Lyra, her intense eyes scanning every nook and cranny of the orphanage, "Your father was the one to drop you off here and I didn't agree with keeping you here as long as we did anyway,"

Lyra frowned and was about to ask her what she meant by that when Madam Dunbar continued.

"Where is your trunk? Let's see to that and get it in the car,"

Lyra led Madam Dunbar to her room, where the woman cast a feather-light charm on the trunk making it easier for Lyra to grab it and take it to the car.

"Fay's at the ministry, waiting for me and bored out of her mind," Madam Dunbar told Lyra, "She's always waking me up and then getting upset when the time doesn't move fast enough to get her on the Express already,"

"Does she do that every year?" Lyra asked and then elaborated, "Wake up early, I mean?"

Madam Dunbar shook her head when they got into the car, “Oh no, I don’t know what’s gotten into her,”

The car was black and sleek and looked enough like one of those cars in spy movies that Lyra suspected that it was a Ministry car that was meant to blend in and look inconspicuous. Though if Lyra was to be honest, it drew more attention that way. 

"On September first, when many other children are wide awake, Fay Dunbar is still fast asleep," Madam Dunbar sighed, though she sounded fond. She tapped the wheel of the car with her wand and off it went, directed by magic. In wonder, Lyra stared as something as mundane as a car wheel moving by itself as if Madam Dunbar herself was directing it along the road.

"Does the Ministry have any idea where Sirius Black is?" Lyra asked without preamble after the car had traveled through several residential areas. 

They had traveled in relative silence, both not knowing what to say to the other, besides the elephant in the room, so Lyra decided to go ahead and go for it. Madam Dunbar wasn't driving anyway, it wasn't like she would swerve off the road in shock.

"We think he's still Britain," Madam Dunbar said slowly, "There haven’t been many sightings...anywhere really, the occasional false report is common, but we think there is no reason for Black to travel somewhere else."

Lyra furrowed her eyebrows, "And you're sure? He could be anywhere."

She repressed a shudder, she didn’t want Madam Dunbar to be worried after all.

And yet Madam Dunbar didn't need to look at her to be worried “The Minister’s put Dementors around Hogwarts, to keep Sirius Black out.. Has Fay told you what they are?”

Lyra nodded slowly, she did recall Fay telling her about them, in the Spring when Rubeus Hagrid the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts was arrested and taken to Azkaban. Lyra had been horrified to know what Dementors were, and similarly hadn’t known how to feel about her father being subject to them for twelve years. 

She sometimes wished it was one big mistake, that in all actuality her father was innocent and Lyra was not predestined to be evil like her entire family. But Sirius Black was guilty and it did no good for Lyra to hope that he wasn’t. If he was just found already, she wouldn't have to think of him all the time.

“Is that allowed?” Lyra asked, instead of the multitude of questions she was thinking of, “Aren’t they all supposed to be at Azkaban?”

“Well, generally, yes, but they’re let out sometimes to find people, and guard things.” Madam Dunbar said, “The Minister’s sure it’ll keep Sirius Black out of the school, and the hope is for the students to stay safe-.”

She looked like she wanted to continue, but she inhaled sharply through her nose instead.

“-Provided they don’t go outside.” Lyra finished, “Don’t the dementors not...care about who you are? What do you think, Madam Dunbar?”

Madam Dunbar sighed, “I think that we need to find Sirius Black as soon as possible, and Cornelius needs to be seen doing something.”

Lyra knew Madam Dunbar didn’t like the Minister much, though she may follow his orders. It was also a relief to hear her true opinion, Fay was very much a free thinker, like her mother and it was nice that Madam Dunbar didn’t lie to her.

The rest of the drive passed by in silence, besides Madam Dunbar humming, and before Lyra knew it the car pulled over into a large parking garage.

“This is where we keep the cars,” Madam Dunbar told Lyra as they exited the car, “Now, I have to warn you, in order to get to the Atrium of the Ministry we’ll have to apparate in or Side-along Apparition in your case.”

“That’s like teleporting, right?” Lyra asked, her eyes though were focusing on the ministry car as it drove into the shadows of the garage, “But with more than one person?”

“Certainly,” Madam Dunbar said, “I’ll need you to grab my arm tightly, Apparition can feel foul for even the best of witches or wizards and side-along even more so. Remember to hold on strong,”

Madam Dunbar held out her arm, and Lyra took it, trying to be careful to hold tight but make sure to not hold on in a vice-like grip.

“Don’t be afraid to hold tightly, I’d rather have a sore arm than for you to splinch.”

Splinching...Did not sound like fun.

Lyra clasped Madam Dunbar's arm tighter, but the woman felt like she was falling away. Lyra held on as hard as she could, being as squeezed together in the air as she was. She couldn’t see but all the forces together made her feel weightless for a second as if she didn’t exist, but the rest of her body caught up with her mind and the faraway feeling disappeared. She couldn't breathe and the pain and the pressure were too much. It was like a band encompassing her head, giving her a headache, but the band was a blanket and it was all over her body. Suddenly it was done and nausea overtook her as she gagged.

“I’m never doing that again.” Lyra gasped clutching her stomach. Madam Dunbar patted her back sympathetically.

“Apparition is not for everyone,” Madam Dunbar replied, “Fay finds a similar distaste for it, but it is a nice way out when you’re in a fix.”

Lyra took another second to gather her bearings. Blinking madly, and trying to forget the awful feeling that carried over from the Side-Along Apparition. It was like a bad aftertaste. Fay had said something about how awful it was, but all Lyra thought about how cool it was that it sounded like teleporting.

Well...she would never do it again. She’d already made up her mind. Teleporting or not, traveling would have to be done by floo powder when she got over her distaste for walking into the fire, or a broom if she ever got over her fear of heights.

It just so happened that once Lyra was well enough to remember that Madam Dunbar had taken her into the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, that she completely forgot about the awfulness that was Apparition. 

Lyra’s wide eyes drank it all in, as widely as she eyed Diagon Alley and Hogwarts and all of the other magical things she was denied an opportunity to know as a child. She didn’t want to miss anything.

Only-her eyes fell on the wanted poster of her father, the very same type of poster she knew was in her trunk, and remembered _why_ she was there in the first place.


End file.
